


Hell Sweet Hell

by Sionna_Raven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 23:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11345244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sionna_Raven/pseuds/Sionna_Raven
Summary: The place behind the Veil may be heaven or hell, maybe neither. All Sirius longs for is company and his wish is granted, when a wounded Severus Snape lands on his doorstep during the final battle.





	Hell Sweet Hell

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies that this turned out to be tamer than I intended. Written for a LJ fest in 2013 and forgotten to post here.

It started with a thud, a loud, dull thud at my front door. I was making tea when I heard the noise that changed my life.

Life? Most people would call it afterlife or plainly death. I refuse to do so. I still feel alive, even in this strange place and this strange situation. He is alive, too. He was barely alive, when I found him six months ago.

 

I'm making tea again now, tea for two, waiting for him to wake up from his lunchtime nap and knock against the wall with his walking stick to call for me. He can speak again, but only very quietly. His voice is hoarse, strained from the effort it still takes him to form the words. He will glare at me when I enter his bedroom and I will smirk at his glare. Then I will help him out of the bed and get dressed to have tea with me on the bench in the back garden.

We will have a nice afternoon in the sun, me chatting and he writing his sarcastic comments.

 

All thanks to the demon that rules this place. Demon, genie from hell – wish and it will be given to you.

 

When I first found myself in this place two years ago, I was confused and angry. I couldn't understand what happened. I remembered Bellatrix' curse and that I had woken up on the too soft, too green grass under the bright, too blue sky. I tried to find a way out, return to Harry and my friends. I turned into Padfoot and ran and searched, but there was no way out. Instead there was a nice, sheltered hollow to sleep in, when Padfoot got tired. There was a juicy marrow bone and a fine steak when I woke up next morning. The water in the near-by brook was fresh and sweet. Everything was perfect, a dream come true, Padfoot's idea of paradise.... but I was alone. No other living soul around, not even a butterfly to jump at. I thought I was going mad. I yelled and cursed and Padfoot howled to the moonless sky.

 

The madness ceased after a while, just like it had ceased in Azkaban – I was torn whether it was a blessing or a curse that my will to live proved stronger than anything - and I understood that something, someone was taking care of me, taking care of my needs. I decided to survive. The demon supplied me with everything, food, new clothes, when mine got tatty and when I joked I would like to have a house and a garden, the demon gave it to me. He is a bit mean when it comes to sending good firewhisky though.

 

I settled in, started reading again, looked after the roses and a strange feeling of contentment crept into my heart. I still desperately wished for company. Not human company, I wouldn't have wanted any of my friends, anyone at all to be stranded in this lonely hell... paradise... hell... paradise... I pleaded with the demon to send a pet. The one wish that was denied. He sent stuffed toys instead, similar to those I had as a boy, a teddy bear, a fluffy blue rabbit, a patchwork snake which I nailed to my bedroom door. I talked to the teddy bear to hear a human voice, if only my own. After a few glasses I was able to imagine the bear talked back.

 

Then all of a sudden there was this thud. It took me a moment to recognize the bundle of rags, sticky with blood for what – for who it was. Severus Snivelly Snape of all people! I always knew the demon had a strange sense of humour. If I had made a list of people I wasn't missing, Snape had been close second to the rat. He looked like shit, worse than shit, only a faint flutter of his lids betrayed that he was still alive. The stench of blood and something which I later found out must have been snake venom made me sick. His ugly face was the colour of sour milk. He looked older, much older than the last time I had seen him.

What happened? What about Harry and Remus and.....? Had Voldemort won? Thoughts in my head started swirling. I imagined the worst and the best and anything in between.

Harry! Dumbledore promised he would succeed. He promised!

There was only one clear thought left, I wouldn't allow the sneaky snake to die before he could tell me what happened. Everything else went without much thinking. I picked Snape up, carefully, more carefully than the bastard deserved. He was light as a feather. They couldn't have let him starve at Hogwarts, could they? I carried him into the house and growling to myself that I probably would have to put him in my own bed, because there wasn't another place to take him.

 

The demon had provided as usual. There was a new door right beside mine and it led to a second small bedroom. The room was simple but nice and the bed looked comfortable. I placed Snape there and started to undress him. The ghastly wound on his neck had stopped bleeding, but a poisonous substance was oozing from the torn flesh. It must have been the snake, Voldemort's pet that attacked him. I remembered what they had told me of the attack on Arthur. It had taken them ages to find a working antidote against the venom of that snake. What was the damned name? Where should I get it? I let out a bitter laugh when I realised that Snape himself had probably researched and brewed the potion that saved Arthur. He couldn't tell me what to do. The demon could. A book appeared on the bedside table, opened on the right chapter, 'Cleansing Infested Wounds,which had a nice illustration that told me exactly how to treat the wound. Beside the book was a bottle with a disinfectant potion and pieces of cloth.

Having something to do felt good. It didn't matter that it was Snape. He was a living creature, a man. I could feel the warmth of his body slowly return. I could seen his chest move with every breath he took - rattling, gurgling noises, failing, stuttering. With each spoonful of blood-replenishing potion a bit of colour returned to his face.

 

I don't think I've ever seen anyone so... ugly and yet I wasn't disgusted at the sight of a naked Snape. I was disgusted with myself for not being disgusted with him.

 

For three days I hardly left his side. I slept in an armchair next to his bed, woke up at every unusual sound or the lack of it, at every sudden movement of his body. He was shaking, stirring and shivering, trying to fend of an invisible attacker. His lips formed inaudible words. Every now and then his eyes opened and reflected nothing but sheer terror and hopelessness. Then again all of a sudden he would become quiet, his face became calm as if he fulfilled his task and was allowed to move on.

 

No, he wasn't! I needed to know what happened to my friends. I wanted to yell at him, wake him, make him talk, but I knew it was useless. I had to wait for his wounds to heal, for his body to defeat the venom in his veins.

 

On the fourth day he finally regained consciousness for a moment. He stared at me; his hand was groping for his wand which lay on the bedside table. I smiled and he understood the wand was useless. Was it fear or hatred that glittered in his eyes at my sight? Both perhaps and not without reason. He fell back into his restless dreams.

 

When he woke up again in the late evening, he was much more in control of himself. Hatred, yes and confusion. I resigned to answer his unspoken, unspeakable questions. He tried to assess the probably weird tale of how I found him and about our demonic caretaker and my assurances that… for the moment I had no intention to kill him. He understood more than I wanted to let on, much more, too much perhaps.

 

As a patient he was surprisingly easy to handle, having a pragmatic acceptance of necessity. The snake venom had caused paralysing nerve damage which, as I could assure him from the book, would be only temporary, if he took his potions like a “good boy.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the words “good boy.” The boys had said his face never showed emotions and his eyes were cold, but I found them very telling. I quickly learned to read the expressions of his face and the look in his eyes. Much sooner than I was ready to admit it to myself, he understood that I enjoyed his company. 

 

Finally he became strong enough to try to communicate. His hands were shaking too much to hold a quill, but the demon provided us with a piece of slate and chalk. Slowly, too slowly for my impatient mind, he drew the letters which answered my question.

 

“POTTER.......DEAD! I... TOLD HIM... DUMbledore... I killed... the prophecy..... had to die”

 

I looked at the words, trying to make sense of it. Potter? Harry? Dead?

 

Snape continued to write: “One has.....to die by the....hands of the other...... Dumbledore said it. No other way! …. killed the headmaster.... I had to.... gave my word.... told Potter to go and die..... vanquish the Dark Lord”

 

“YOU!” I yelled at him. 

I refused to believe. Dumbledore always said Snape was on our side... All colour had left his face. He nodded slowly. The slate dropped from his hands. Then I saw tears glittering in his eyes, his lips moving, trembling. I could read the name on his lips.

“Lily.”

 

I wanted to grab his shoulders, shake him to make him admit that he lied, but.... He didn't lie.

I raised my hands to close them around his throat. Kill the treacherous snake! ….........I couldn't! I couldn't do what he was waiting for, asking for. I turned around and ran out.

 

Ran, ran as fast as I could. Get away, changed into Padfoot while running. Running, running, running........... not thinking.

I only stopped when I reached the lake, the lake that looked so much like the one at Hogwarts where we had been happy and alive. I never had the chance to tell Harry about it.

 

*

 

I returned to the cottage a week later. Snape was lying on the kitchen floor, seemingly unconscious. I had left him without food and drink all those days. He had tried to find some himself. The kettle and a broken teapot were scattered in front of the stove along with some crumbled scones. Snape lying there, wrapped in the sunflower tablecloth made me laugh bitterly.

 

“It's only us the two of us left, Snivelly. I'm afraid I can't let you die and leave me alone again.........”

 

Snape moaned in pain as I picked him up.

“Never mind, we'll be having loads of fun together. Hell sweet hell.”

 

*

It wasn't hell, not for me anyway. Snape might have thought different. It took him two week until he was able to pick up the slate again and begin write down his story in a more coherent manner. Slowly the pieces of the puzzle came together and even more slowly I understood what he had been through all those years. Taking care of Harry when I couldn't. Taking care of the boy who reminded him of his worst enemy and his greatest loss..... only to find out in the end that he had to send him to his pre-planned death. I started asking questions about things I didn't understand or missed at the time. He answered and asked questions in return.

We talked for the first time in all those years. We only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep. I tugged him in again and again, held him when he was shivering in fever.

 

*

 

As I set the tray with the tea cups down on the garden table I hear his call. Tok... tok..... tok......... tok tok toktok! “Getting impatient, are you?” ,I chuckle.

 

He's already set up on the edge of the bed and tries to angle for his dressing gown.

 

“Master Sev has called for Sirry? Sirry is hurrying to help Master Sev... Sirry has to slap himself first for letting Master Sev wait so long...” I bow deeply in an almost perfect imitation of Kreacher. Almost perfect, because I simply can't flap my ears.

 

Severus pretends to frown, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

I hold up the gown for him to get in, but he shakes his head and points at the trousers and jumper. All right, he wants to get fully dressed today. We are a well-trained team by now. If he could just pretend he wasn't enjoying the whole scene so much, me playing his valet. I kneel down to lace his shoes.

 

“Why don't you ask the demon to give you slippers?”

His smirk broadens at this. “Old-fashioned snob.”

 

It's a lovely sunny afternoon. It's always a lovely and sunny day in the demon's world, and always cold enough in the evening to light a cosy fire. Severus points that out when we've finished the tea.

 

“I think you need to chop some firewood for tonight, Black.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

The demon leaves some random tasks to us, to me precisely, because Severus still isn't strong enough to do the chores. Severus thinks that one of us - which means me - has given the demon the impression that we like to work with our hands. He's probably right about that, but I object to the insinuation that I begged to scrub the floor to do penance for all the generations of house elves exploited by my family. At least he has agreed to dry the cups and plates after I washed them.

Unfortunately he's right about the wood. I stretch and hesitantly get to the work.

Have I said it's always lovely and sunny? The sun is getting burning hot, as I chop one log after the other. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and pull off my t-shirt. Severus is lazily sipping another cup. Git!

 

He pretends to browse through a book on his lap, but in fact his eyes are on me. He's watching me. There's no mistaking that he's watching me in a certain way. I can almost feel his eyes wandering over my naked back. I should tell him to get up and help me stacking the logs, but all I can think of are his skilled hands touching me instead of his eyes. I've been dreaming of him doing that at night, been dreaming of touching him. I should know his body inside out by now, having been his nurse for weeks, but I dream to feel him in a very different way. I've kept telling myself that it's a simple physical reaction for a healthy man to long for ... Snape is the only one available, isn't he? Damn, when I need a face and more to enliven a wet dream he shouldn't be the one who comes to mind. Old people said chopping wood is a good way to get your mind away from such thoughts. They were wrong! How can I get my mind off such thoughts, when every single movement I make is followed by those incredibly intense black eyes?

 

Will sticking my head into the water barrel help me cool down? I need a break anyway.

Severus frowns at me and tries to protect his unread book from the water that drops from my strands as I reach over to grab one of the towels on the stool behind him. I shake off more water and laugh.

 

“Stupid mutt; always making a mess!”

 

Severus has sat up straighter and his face is so close that I can feel his breath on my skin. I don't care what he'll be doing next. I can't help it any more. I lean down and raise his face, pressing my lips on his.

Shock or an instinctive attempt to tell me off? His lips part for an endless wonderful second. Severus' hands push against my chest. He can't push me off. I move my lips slowly over his cheek and whisper in his ear: “Don't push me away. Please.....”

 

I push my hand under his sweater, feeling him at last, feeling his soft smooth body and pressing against him I can feel that he does like it. He turns his head away and croaks breathlessly:

“Get off me, Black! I'm..... I'm not..... playing along. Let go! I am not one a toys the demon has given to you!”

 

“Toy? I don't...” I try to hold on to him while he wiggles away. “I'd never consider you a toy, Sev. I only want to...”

 

“...want to get off easily? Getting bored with the company of your right hand?” He has managed to slither out of my grasp. “What do you expect? That I'm flattered to be a stand-in for... I should envy you for your imaginative skills. Closing your eyes and convincing yourself I'm Potter is quite an achievement.”

 

I stare at him. “Pott... you mean... James?!? You think I... me and James? Good Godric!”

 

Sev suddenly looks defiant and very vulnerable. Could he really believe that …? Then my heart leaps in joy. He's jealous. He likes me, really likes me. I cup his face with my hands and gently brush away the curtain of black hair he's been hiding behind.

 

“Sev, there's never been anything but friendship between me and James. He... he wasn't my type, apart from being straight as a bean pole.” I chuckle at his disbelieving look. “It seems that my taste is a bit peculiar, because the only guy I envision to kiss when I close my eyes is a stupid, stubborn, hawk-nosed old git. And I will prove to you that my right hand is not boring at all. I'm very interested to meet your right hand by the way, both of your hands. Could you stop pretending you're petrified and …? Mmmmmmuch better...”

 

Why would I need to imagine things, when I have what I want right here? Has it always felt so good to touch, to be touched? It's been so long, so many years since... I refuse to remember the last time someone.... I refuse to remember!

Pushing up his sweater I cover his stomach with kisses. He's ticklish. I like that. The rests of the deck chair are getting uncomfortably in the way, poking into my side and his. I look up questioningly.

 

Severus has the same idea. “Let's get inside.”

 

It takes him some effort to get out of the chair, so I decide to simply take him up and carry him. To me it seems the most natural thing to carry my lover over the threshold. He doesn't like that at all and growls and grunts.

“Let me down, you clumsy git! I can walk by myself.”

 

I oblige, laughing at his attempt to preserve dignity. I don't give a damn about dignity. I want him in a comfortable place and out of his clothes.

 

Thank you demon! Not only is the living room floor covered with large and very inviting cushions, there's a small, but nice fire, some candles and a cruet of red vine. The demon has a sense for romance.

 

“Black, when will you learn to control your thoughts?”

 

“Me? Why always me? I didn't ask the demon to do this.”

 

“You don't need to ask. How many times do I have to tell you that the demon reads your mind and conjures what he thinks you want? Silk cushions? Honestly...”

 

I drop down on the cushions and pull him into my arms. “You will like the feel of silk, trust me.”

 

He does like it and he likes it even more when I remove his sweater and pull of his trousers. I have a lot of practise with that.

 

“Black, what are you staring at? Don't pretend you haven't seen it before.” Severus rolls over to hide the pinkish glow on his face.

 

“I've seen it before, but not in such...a good mood. The other side of you is equally attractive.” 

I let my hands wander down his back and rest on his bum.

 

“You've gained some weight, suits you well. May I take pride in that it is the result of my cooking?”

 

“Can I stop you in priding yourself in anything? You're as incredibly conceited as ever, Black.”

 

I pull a face and he smirks. Then a mischievous glitter appears in his eyes.

 

“Anything else you want to show off? Are you good at other things than cooking?”

 

“Hmm, let me see. Apart from magic we can't use here? I used to be quite skilled with Muggle machines, Padfoot is good at running and catching frisbees and...” I roll him to his back and close my hand around his absolutely delicious looking cock, “...some people said I have a natural talent with these.”

 

Severus moans as I slowly move my hand and move my head down until my lips almost touch the tip.

 

“I may be a bit out of practise.”

 

Not that much out of practise judging from the noises Sev makes when I take it in my mouth. I start licking teasingly, but I can't keep that going for long. I want this cock; I want it all, swallow it, feel it grow and pulse. I want him to arch up, to push, to spread his legs, make him shiver and make more of those funny noises, when I increase the pressure or lick at a certain spot.

 

It's like riding a broom, you don't forget how to do it. However, Sev must be as much out of practise as I am, since he doesn't last long. I love the sight of him, spent, relaxed, happy. I crawl up to lie beside him and play with a strand of his hair.

 

“What about you?” He asks, after he recovered a bit.

 

“There's enough time to take care of that later.”

 

“Trying to be noble? I'm not that exhausted or an invalid.”

 

I certainly don't stop him. Only a few moments later I lie panting on the cushions and Sev chuckles. “I'm not totally unskilled either, Sirius.”

 

“No.... you aren't.” 

He's exhausted though. We have a glass of the wine, sweeter from his lips. It feels good to simply hold him in my arms, be held, exchanging gentle kisses. There's time for more tomorrow or the day after, every day, until he is completely healed and strong and … what will it be like to feel that gorgeous cock inside me?

 

Then suddenly some strange object appears beside us. We both look at it.

 

“No way, Black! Forget it!”

 

I look at the object the demon has sent and take it up. A rubber hose with a kind of hot water bottle? What the hell is that? And why does it make Sev so angry?

 

“What do you mean? What is this …thingy?” 

 

He finally gets that I'm not joking. I haven't got the slightest idea. Sev starts laughing. “You really don't know, do you? Spoiled Pureblood!”

 

“No, I don't. Will you enlighten me?”

 

He has some difficulty speaking as he is still laughing his head off at my ignorance. “It is.... it's... an enema...........”

 

“An enigma? I can see that, but what is it good for?”

 

“Enema, not enigma, you imbecile. It's what Muggles use... what Muggles use instead of a cleaning charm and you will not use that on me. Have I made myself clear?”

 

I'm still not exactly sure how that thing works. The rubber container filled with water? And then...“You're kidding! That's disgusting!”

 

“Well, it's better than no cleaning at all. They can't just flick their wands, can they? What did you do with Muggles? Confund them, so they don't notice your magic?”

 

I shrug, that's what I did basically. Very few in the old days were as thoughtful as he is. Most never bothered to ask.

 

“You mean, if we want to do it, we'll have to use this first?...You know how to use it, do you?”

 

“Yes, I do. Properly done it's not as disgusting as you imagine. I've even heard that some wizards like the...errr...sensation, but... I do not! So no way you're going to fuck me.”

 

“Would you … be willing to show me how to use it? Not today, some day, when you're healed... I mean I …” I look at his cock pointedly, “it looks like it's worth a bit of... inconvenience. You're sure it doesn't hurt or do any harm? It looks very crude.”

 

Severus jerks his head. “You really mean it, don't you? You want me to fuck you? You would let me... just on my word that it isn't as bad as it looks?”

 

I don't answer, just kiss him again.

We sleep very comfortably on the cushions in each other arms that night.

The demon sets the table with all kinds of nibbles, so there is no need to leave the living room for many days.

 

*

 

When we finally decide to get up again, the world has changed. At very the end of the garden there is an old stone archway with a veil. We both freeze on the spot. A way out, back to the world of the living? I always dreamt of such an escape, but suddenly I'm not so sure any more. We sit down in front of the veil. There are voices behind, voices of the living. My friends? His former friends?

 

Severus is sure Harry succeeded. He has to be sure, because if not, all he had done had been in vain. He said I had been acquitted, but what about him? He had killed Dumbledore. They wouldn't let him explain. They never listened, never cared.

 

The sun goes down and we return to the house in silence. I don't want to let him out of my reach. I don't want to part from him. If that means staying here and never seeing my friends again, be it so. There aren't many left anyway.

Next morning we have a good and wholesome breakfast. Severus watches me the whole time.

He stands up, walks to the hall and throws me my long black coat. “It's time to leave, Sirius.”

 

“I'm not going anywhere. Not without you.”

 

“Stupid, faithful mutt.” He takes his own coat and both our wands, which have been lying on the mantle piece side by side.

 

“You are and so will I. We are alive and we have to return to the real world. Whatever we will find there, we can't hide from it.”

 

“Severus, it's too much of a risk. Even if we won, we don't know how they will react to your return. I'm not going to let them take you to Azkaban.”

 

He laughs. “I trust you not to. We can defend ourselves, can't we? Against the Ministry lot and whoever will dare to confront us.”

 

“Spoken like a Gryffindor.” I chuckle.

 

“Don't insult me. Come on, let's go.”

 

We pass the veil side by side, wands at the ready.

 

A group of elderly old wizards jump from their seats at our sight. A young man who has been talking to them turns around, pointing his wand at the intruders. He wears the golden badge of a Member of the Aurors Office and the small band of the Order of Merlin 1rst Class.

 

“Harry!”

 

“Sirius! Professor Snape!”

 

We both grab each other's shoulders to make sure the other was real, not a hallucination. Alive!

It takes us quite a while to believe. We can't say anything more coherent than repeating the other's name in turns. When I can take in the surroundings again, I see a shadow sneaking along the walls, making his way to the door.

 

I run after him, pushing aside the upset group of people.

 

“Severus wait! Where do you think you're going?”

 

“Home, before they overcome their confusion and arrest me.”

 

“You're not going anywhere without me.” I say making it perfectly clear by putting my arm around his waist.

 

Harry has followed me and is watching us in astonishment. Severus seems slightly abashed by my embrace. Harry grasps the situation surprisingly fast. Dear Merlin, the boy has grown up!

 

“Mr Snape, I can assure you that the Aurors Office doesn't hold any charges against you. Your house is as you left it.... nobody was interesting in buying it,” he mutters under his breath. “You are free to go.” He turns back to me. “Sirius, I thought you'd come with me. Ginny, Ron and Hermione would never forgive me...”

 

“Sorry Harry, give my apologies to them. I need to make sure that Sev gets a suitable basket for Padfoot with plenty of soft blankets.”

 

Severus barely manages to suppress a laugh.

 

“You think I take in any stray mongrel that howls at my door?”

 

“Sure you will. You've been my house guest for weeks. It's time to return the favour.”

 


End file.
